


Just As Planned

by xxjinchuurikixx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I grossed myself out with this fluff, Kitchen kisses, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14391996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxjinchuurikixx/pseuds/xxjinchuurikixx
Summary: It was going to be something romantic. Derek wanted it to be so romantic, so perfect, so flawlessly executed, Stiles would talk about it with stars in his eyes for the rest of their lives.





	Just As Planned

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a tiny cake-slice of fluff at work. Help  
> Come yell at me on tumblr!! [xxjinchuurikixx](http://xxjinchuurikixx.tumblr.com/)  
> -xo, mo

It was going to be something romantic. Derek wanted it to be so romantic, so perfect, so flawlessly executed, Stiles would talk about it with stars in his eyes for the rest of their lives.

He was going to take him on a vacation. A trip somewhere bright and warm and sandy, somewhere snowy and crisp with the aurora lights over their heads. The glitter of Paris, the sweet air of Italy, the cabin he has in the alps. He was going to kiss and hold and make love to Stiles until he was content and sleepy, and then he was going to ask him under the light of the moon, after he showed Stiles how much he adored him, how much he loved him.

But hardly anything in Derek’s life ever goes as planned.

He’s awake first, downstairs in his drawstrings without a shirt, the smooth tile of the kitchen floor cool under his feet. He flips a few chocolate chip pancakes over in a skillet, humming quietly to himself.

Warm fur rubs against his calf through his pants, and he looks down to see Han Solo looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not getting cat hair in the pancake batter,” Derek says gruffly.

The beast sits down, clearly waiting.

“No.”

“Aww, daddy is so mean, isn’t he, Han?” Stiles says from the archway of the kitchen, and Han immediately mews loudly and trots over to him.

“Spoiled,” Derek says quietly.

In his peripheral, he can see Stiles stoop down to scoop the cat into his arms, and even from across the kitchen he can hear Han Solo’s loud purring.

“He gets it from his dad,” Stiles says thoughtfully, and Derek turns to him, ready to say,  _ if you mean yourself, then yes _ , and stops dead in his tracks.

Stiles is lit by the glow of the morning light coming off of the soft powdering of snow through the huge window in their living room. He’s soft and warm, rumpled from sleep, his hair—longer than he used to wear it—sticking in all directions. From across the kitchen, Derek can smell his toothpaste, the sweat under his arms from when he got tangled in their blankets, the always lingering of spice and musk from Derek’s wolf all over his mate.

He’s wearing an oversized maroon sweater—one of Derek’s. The sleeves are a bit frayed, and it’s a little too tight in Stiles’ shoulders, but he looks warm and content as he curls Han in his arms like a baby and bumps his nose to the cat’s forehead.

Derek’s lips part, slowly, taking in the sight of his beautiful mate, of their adorable menace of a cat melting like butter in his hands, of the smell of content and happy that comes off of Stiles in waves.

Stiles looks up at him, smiling, his eyes honey and chocolate, the stars in his skin multiplied from constant sun exposure throughout their years together, rebuilding the Hale pack house, digging the garden, days at the lake with their family, their pack..

Derek has enough sense to push the pancake skillet slightly off the heat of their glasstop stove, and he turns to Stiles, brows furrowed tight. “Would you marry me?”

The words spill out of his mouth slowly, warm like honey up his throat and down his chin, and he watches as Stiles’ bright grin is replaced by bewilderment. His cheeks flush, the warmth of blood-rush sweet, his mouth falling open as his eyebrows rise into his disheveled bangs.

Derek holds Stiles’ gaze as he walks slowly across the kitchen, heart digging claws through his ribs, trying to get into Stiles’ hands. “Not right now… not even soon… I’m not even sure if I’m asking for real—just… would you? Would you want to marry me, Stiles? Ever?”

Derek sets his hands on Stiles’ hips, Han looking between them before burrowing deep into Derek’s chest as he steps closer. He can see the scar on Stiles’ chin that never healed well, the flecks of amber in his dark eyes. He could count every lash if he wanted to.

“I know I’m just a grouchy old wolf, and I don’t have much to offer you… But everything I am, everything I can give you is yours. You’re my whole world, Stiles. I couldn’t fall asleep if you weren’t beside me, and I would never get out of bed if you weren’t the first thing I saw every day. You’re my anchor, my  _ home _ … I love you so, so much, Stiles,” Derek says, bumping their foreheads together.

He closes his eyes, sighing, his entire body humming as if the change were coming upon his skin. Then he smells salt, and the sharp spike of anxiety in Stiles’ scent that is quickly masked by a rush of honeyed ambrosia.

“You big dumb idiot… You can’t just say stuff like that,” Stiles snaps, and when Derek looks at him he’s crying. Stiles hugs Han Solo to his chest and hides his face in the cat’s side, and Derek grabs him by the shoulders. Stiles is still talking, the words muffled into the big tortoiseshell’s side.

“Baby, are you alright? Did I upset you?” Derek groans, his stomach dropping as he manages to get Han free, pulling the cat into his arms.

Stiles hugs him, keeping his face hidden, but his shoulders shake and his nails bite at the skin at the small of Derek’s back. “Stupid, stupid Sourwolf,” Stiles mumbles, and he lifts his face, smiling through his tears as he sniffles. Splotches of Han’s hair are stuck together from the wet of Stiles’ tears. “I love you more than anything, ever, always. You’re  _ my  _ grouchy old wolf, and you’re so sappy and beautiful and stupid. How could I ever say no to you?  _ Would I marry you? _ That you even want to marry me is so ridiculous. My hands are shaking.”

Derek lets Han slip to the floor, then puts his arms around Stiles and pulls him close, tucking Stiles’ face into his neck. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, you stupid sap. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. Whenever you want, wherever you want. As long as you don’t try to get my dad on a boat,” Stiles says, laughing as Derek pushes him back and starts kissing on Stiles’ damp face.

“Then I guess I should,” Derek says, breaking off as he takes Stiles’ hands in his, going down on one knee.

“No, stop—don’t, you, ugh,” Stiles groans, then he closes his eyes and stifles a sob/laugh as Derek beams up at him.

“Miec—“

Stiles levels him with a look. 

“Stiles Stilinski, will you please, please marry me? Will you stay with me, and make me this happy, always? Will you let me take care of you, and keep you safe, so long as it is in my body and my will to do so? I promise I’ll love you with all of me… forever. I swear,” Derek says earnestly, the sincerity burning his eyes. He has so much to say, so much to promise, but his hands are trembling around Stiles’, and Han Solo is nudging his face into his knee in need.

Stiles pulls his hands free, and when Derek thinks his heart might break from beating so hard, Stiles’ palms are cupping his face, warm and soft. He scratches his fingertips through Derek’s thick beard, lightly touching the corner of his mouth, Derek’s adorable bunny teeth peeking out as his lips part.

“Yes, Derek Hale… I’ll marry you. I will. I’ll protect you with everything I have, and I’ll love you with my whole heart, always. I swear,” Stiles says shakily, kneeling down so he can pull Derek into a kiss that tastes like the salt of his tears and the promise of always and forever.

Derek pulls Stiles onto his lap, kissing him and kissing him until the feeling of Han Solo trying to climb his bare back forces them apart, Derek yelping, Stiles laughing.

So it wasn’t as romantic as he had always planned. It wasn’t what he had intended, but it was perfect, and it was theirs.

Stiles talks about it with stars in his eyes for the rest of their lives.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's some quick fluff. I think I'm gonna do these for different ships whenever I'm feeling too deep down on the road of Hell and Sin, lol. Enjoy!


End file.
